Soundwave x Reader
by HeatherKF
Summary: For a friend; not saying who. Invades privacy as there are some details in here about them.


Epilogue: The war had been over for nearly three years now, and while there was some tension, much of it is dispersed. Autobots and Decepticons have forged new bonds with their new allies; and even some new members of a different race.

"JAZZ, TURN THAT MUSIC DOWN!"

Jazz sighed. '_…there goes another grumpy music-hater,_' he thought. He got up and went to his music room; where Blaster, Jazz and Soundwave hung out together sometimes to play music and just talk it up…took a while to get Soundwave to join the 'talking' part though.

Jazz wandered down the hall, and even through the sound-proof walls he could still hear Blaster playing up the music. Jazz chuckled to himself. That mech could entertain himself so easily; it was quite entertaining. Until he got bored and went to beg some poor bot to hang out with him and listen to some music. Jazz opened the door (there really was no reason to have codes anymore; now that the war was over; the only exception being places like mech's rooms)…and his jaw nearly dropped.

There in the music room, was Soundwave…and he was playing music for a familiar looking human…

_Several days earlier…_

Soundwave was walking down the hall in the Ark. If some bot had told him three years ago that he would be in the Ark of his own will, then Soundwave would have spared their spark just because he thought them too crazy to be a threat. Now as he walked down the corridor, he thought back to it and considered it an amusing thought that dwelled in the back of his processor.

As he continued down the path, he heard some faint, light sounds. He deterred from his usual route and went towards it; lost in thought and not too eager to go back to his office. As he got closer, he recognized the sounds as laughter as it hit his audio receptors. He walked around the corner and took in the sight before him.

Four new comers, all human, all female, had joined the ranks of the Autobots. Or, what had been the Autobots. Now they supported all Transformers, Decepticon and Autobot alike.

As he watched, there was one that took hold of him, paralyzing him in place; you had a sweet, soft, soothing voice. If the vocal recognition scanner worked correctly, that is. You wore glasses, and when you smiled adorable braces played peek-a-boo. but otherwise didn't seem out of the ordinary. Soundwave felt his core temperature rising in what would be equivalent to a blush as he just…wanted to pick you up and take you to the music room; kick Jazz and Blaster out, and play your favorite music.

Soundwave realized he knew nothing about you.

'_Yet,_' he thought.

Soundwave turned and walked back down the hall.

He had some research to do.

_Eight weeks prior…_

You had just joined the ranks among the Transformers due to the most unlikely link: Huffer. You two had met while waiting for a light to turn green, Huffer complaining to himself in the lane next to you. You had looked at him, started talking, and it must have been the longest red light in the history of the world, because you two had a good part of a conversation before exchanging contacts as you both went your separate ways.

It was all because you had seen the need to give him positivity that made his day a little brighter; and Huffer decided to introduce you to the other Transformers as a token of appreciation (which wasn't very easy to do; since

A) they lived in the middle of the desert

and B) many humans (fans) weren't allowed to just walk into Autobot base anytime they pleased. There were rules to be followed (so says the Prowl).

…then you met Wheeljack.

And _oh boy_; did you two have fun.

Many things exploded at the hands (and servos) of you two; and many interesting things were created (such as the cuddles; which no bot ever wanted a repeat of. They were still trying to sell those off; and Ratchet in particular was not impressed when they doubled regularly around him) because of them. Ratchet had threated Wheeljack that he would confiscate his servos if you had ever been hurt in one of the explosions. As such; Wheeljack had developed an even keener sense of when something was about to blow than before; making sure to wrap his explosion-resistant arms around your small frame when something was about to go 'boom'…and more than once he's admitted a soft spot in his spark you.

You had also sparked Sunstreaker's interest when he found out you were a painter; and had stolen you away a few times for painting sessions together (though he would deny that he had taken any particular interest in you when asked). Sunstreaker's twin Sideswipe had convinced you to participate in a few pranks…and those went over about as well as could be expected. Neither of you had a punishment worse than cleaning duty; and there were laughs to be had (such as when Powerglide went into the wash racks red and came out pink—the faded red version. Least to say the fly-mech was not impressed).

Other than the now-considered-usual; you enjoyed your time on the Ark; with your fellow female friends. Spike was alright to hang out with; but it was hard to earn your trust as a guy. As anyone in particular; but a male especially…though you had taken a particular liking to a certain music-bot. Tall, dark and handsome. The strong and silent type…you sighed.

You didn't know where she would be eight to nine weeks later.

_Eight to nine weeks later…_

Soundwave had researched what he needed to know. Which was what he wanted to know. Which was everything he could find on the girl he was…looking after. …which was you. He went to the lab where he knew you would be. As the doors opened before him, Wheeljack looked up and his audio fins flashed a cheerful blue with the greeting he was yet to say; but was cut off when beside him you let out a startled yelp as you were picked up and carried out by the navy-blue mech.

"Soundwave!? What the slag! I was working on a-"

Soundwave set you on his shoulder calmly. "Soundwave: Request your company."

"M…my company?"

Soundwave only nodded as he entered the music room; the first time that you two would 'hang out' together (as Jazz liked to put it) and closing the door behind him.

He planned on good music and cuddles; which, after all the research he did, showed that you liked him as much as he liked you.

And you liked cuddles too.


End file.
